A Museum Bench
by wesome
Summary: John had actually met Sherlock once before, when they were kids, but neither remember.


**A/N This has been sitting on my computer for months and I just got around to editing and finally posting it. I don't own anything, anything at all. Hope y'all enjoy!**

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_John had actually met Sherlock once, when they were kids, but neither remember._

John was bored. Harry had dragged him with her to a museum. He had voted for the park of course, but Harry had the authority being 3 years older. He hated being the younger sibling sometimes.

His eyes scanned the exhibit on cavemen one more time before turning to look for Harry… who was nowhere to be seen. John sighed once before finding a bench a few meters away and settling in for however long it took Harry to realize she'd forgotten him. John knew better than to go look for her because of years of the exact same thing happening and him and Harry going in circles looking for each other until one of them stopped and the other finally caught up.

John scuffed his sneaker against the ground impatiently. He didn't understand why, of all the places they could've gone and have Harry leave him, she'd chosen the museum. She knew he hated it there. Not that John wasn't interested in history or art or anything else, just that he believed learning was for the week. The weekends were for running and playing, both of which were highly frowned upon in museums.

He'd been waiting for around 5 minutes when someone sat down beside him. Well, sat down implies choice. The other boy, roughly around his age, was led over and pushed onto the bench by another boy a few years older than them.

"Really, Sherlock, you know you can't _touch _the displays! Now, Stay. Here. I'll be back to get you after _I've _finished my look around. And don't run off this time, you know how it upsets Mummy." The older boy, presumably his brother, glared once at Sherlock, who simply crossed his arms and very purposefully ignored him. The brother rolled his eyes and marched away, shaking his head exasperatedly.

As soon as he'd turned the corner, Sherlock huffed in annoyance before he turned to John. "Are you in trouble too?" he asked John curiously.

John sighed. "No. My sister forgot about me… again."

Sherlock nodded in understanding. "I'm Sherlock."

John smiled slightly at him. "John." He looked curiously at Sherlock, "Why are you in trouble anyways?"

Sherlock sighed, "I wanted a closer examination of some notebooks on display. But before I could properly study them, Mycroft pulled me away. Apparently, I wasn't supposed to touch those. Which defeats the purpose of having them on display, doesn't it? If they don't want people to study them, they shouldn't leave them out."

Johns shrugged. "I hate museums. Harry always drags me to them on weekends instead of going someplace I would enjoy." He scuffed his toe against the floor again and sighed. "And then she forgets about me and leaves me in a place I'd rather not be in the first place."

Sherlock frowned. "How horrid. Mycroft drags me along because he doesn't think I can be trusted to look after myself. It's not like it was **my **fault that the lighter was faulty and the curtains caught fire."

John laughed, earning a furrowed brow from Sherlock because, _obviously_,it wasn't a joke. "Sorry," John said, "it's just the same thing happened to Harry, except it wasn't curtains, it was mum's dress and she'd been told repeatedly not to play with the lighter. She was grounded for 2 months for that." Sherlock smiled, seemingly glad it wasn't him who was being laughed at.

They sat in silence for a few moments, just watching the people passing. John in a sort of disinterested manner and Sherlock in a way which suggested he'd seen it all before. He frowned at the clock on the wall in front of them and mumbled to himself.

John looked up, "What?"

"I just said, that clock is 43 seconds behind."

"How would you know that?" John asked curiously, looking from his digital watch to the clock.

Sherlock shrugged. "It is. Probably because the person who set it had a digital watch, like you, and didn't bother checking the seconds before setting it." Sherlock glanced around and nodded to a maintenance man down the hall. "See? He has a digital watch."

John followed Sherlock's nod and noticed that, yes, the man did have a digital watch. He turned back to Sherlock, "But how do you know he's the one who put the clock up? It could've been up there for months and he might've just started yesterday."

"But he didn't. I noticed him earlier. His maintenance badge is old and well-worn and he knows most, if not all, of the other people working here so he's obviously worked here for years. I've also noticed he's the only maintenance or cleaning person whose been in this hall all day which suggests that he's responsible for these exhibits. Which means that if the clock had to be changed, he'd be responsible for that too."

"Oh," John said because how are you supposed to reply to that? He thought in silence for a few moments before turning to Sherlock. "Do you always notice things like that?"

"Yes."

"… Did you notice anything about me?"

Sherlock glanced at him once more before speaking. "Your right handed, but left footed. Your father's in the military and your mother's suffering from a slight cold. Your sister is roughly 3 years older than you and you're here visiting either an aunt or a cousin, somebody whose moving very soon." He looks pleased in himself for a moment, before he pursed his lips, gearing up for the inevitable name calling.

John stared wide-eyed. "That was awesome! How'd you-" he started before being interrupted by Harry.

"There you are John! Come on, mum just called and we need to be there for the party." She grabbed his hand and pulled him up smiling once at Sherlock's look of slight surprise.

Mycroft came back at that moment, pulling Sherlock along the other way. John looked back and waved. "Bye," he called to their retreating backs.

Sherlock turned slightly and raised a hand before disappearing around the corner. John shook his head and ran to catch up with Harry.

"Who was that?" she asked as they made their way out of the museum.

"Oh," John thought for a moment, "just a rather strange boy I'll never see again." And he followed Harry out of the museum.

He soon forgot about that rather strange boy and never realized how wrong he was about that last part.

(As for Sherlock, he simply deleted that whole day.)


End file.
